Warning: This is adult literature.  If you’re not of a legal age to read this stuff, don’t.

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction.  It is intended for adult audiences only.  No semblance between the characters described here and real individuals -- living or dead -- is implied or intended.

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"Boring, boring, boring!" Tammy groaned as she ran her hand across her ipad, her feet up on the couch.  She held it up for Vicky to see-- movies and showtimes scrawled across the glowing screen.  "Are you really down to this-- going to the movies?  We're supergirls.  We're not going pass the time by going to the movies?"

"It's better than stealing the Hope Diamond," Vicky laughed as she flipped channels on the muted TV. "I can't believe you suggested that."

"I suggested it because the rest of us girls are tired of acting as if we're something less than phenomenal -- driving cars, going to the movies, staying out of trouble, ducking into the shadows every time the news crews start to pick up on something we are doing.  Nobody should be embarrassed about who they are, and least of all, us."

Vicky diverted her gaze.  She was thinking.

Tammy continued.  "We're super, Vicky.  I want people to know it.  I don't care if they're scared or jealous.   That's their problem.   Supergirls don't worry about that shit."

Vicky took her eyes off the ground and inhaled deeply.  "OK, you're right. It's time to stop being shy and show the world who we are.  But stealing the Hope Diamond is not the way I want to do it."

"I thought it sounded like fun.  Everybody would know how badass we are.  And I've got this awesome blue evening gown that would go...."

"No national treasures," Vicky objected.

"Why?"  Tammy raised her shoulders.  "No one can possibly stop us."

"I know," Vicky conceded.  "But Jar--."  She stopped herself.

In a frustrated motion, Vicky grabbed the channel changer and jabbed it in the direction of the TV.  The sound came back on.

"Go ahead," Tammy challenged, over the sound of the TV.  "Say it.  Jared.  You're worried about what he will say if we do something irresponsible."

"I am," Vicky admitted.  "He's always been the one with the noble heart.  I guess I admire it."

They both turned to the glowing screen.  It was the news channel, currently showing a picture of the cruise ship saga, now in its fifth day.  The ship had been stranded in the Gulf of Mexico with an engine fire.

"Fine," Tammy smirked, correcting her slouch and sitting up, primly.  "Captain Vicky, please tell me what I can do to entertain myself that is sufficiently noble to impress our revered friend, but also not as stupid as going to the movies."

Vicky didn't answer, but her eyes drifted back to the TV, which still contained the image of the stranded cruise ship.

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"Holy shit, there's a chick flying out there!"  The excitement on the deck of the tugboat was easily audible to Tammy.

"Not a chick.  A super-chick," Tammy corrected him as she floated thirty feet above the bow of the tug.  

Hundreds of feet behind the tug lay the crippled cruise ship, being towed by a long thick cable.  Immediately behind the cruise liner, second tug took up the rear.

"How fast are you guys going, anyway?"  She asked.

"How did you get up there?"  A stunned crew-member replied.

"I asked first!"  Tammy pouted.

"We're going about 2 knots."

"What's that in English?"

"About 3 miles per hour.  We should be in Alabama in four days."

"That's it?  3 miles an hour?"

She was met with silence from the deck.

"That sucks!  I bet I can help you guys do a lot better than that!"

"How in the world are you flying?" the deckhand asked again.  There was now a crowd on the deck of the tug.

"There's lots of shit about me you're going to have a hard time believing," Tammy said as she descended to the deck.  She ran her hand around the circumference of  the tow cable.  "And what I'm about to try -- I have a hard time believing too."

 

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Vicky and Kim dropped out of the sky over Mobile just in time to see the big event.  An anxious and enthusiastic crowd had packed the port to watch the enormous ship come in.  Many families of the passengers were probably there, but Kim expected that many had gathered to see first-hand the remarkable events that had been the center of breathless news coverage for days.  Kim set her ipod to a local radio station to hear the excitement.

"...for those of you joining our newscast, let me bring you up to speed on the mysterious, miraculous events in the Gulf.  A woman of unknown identity has flown -- yes, flown -- under some mysterious power out to the middle of the Gulf.  She is now using those same flight powers to haul the crippled cruise ship back in.  And her power in this regard appears to be immense.  A journey that had been expected to take four days now appears to be complete after just five-and-a-half hours."

The announcer continued excitedly.  "Get this, listeners.  She is towing that vessel at 50 miles per hour.  That's faster than any cruise ship has ever traveled under its own power.  And that's about seventeen times faster than the tug boats had been towing it.  We'll bring you more on these simply remarkable events as they unfold."

As the boat crept over the horizon line, it was hard to appreciate how fast Tammy was pulling it.  But as she approached the harbor, her stunning achievement became far more evident.  

There Tammy was -- flying about fifty feet above the water, with the cruise ship's tow cable slung over one shoulder.  The cable was actually a series of smaller cables joined together into a single strand. It was so thick that she could barely wrap her arm around it.  

The prow of the ship cut through the water so forcefully, it sent massive plumes of spray leaping to each side.  As the ship barreled forward, the bow of the ship could be seen rising and falling slightly -- almost bucking against the gargantuan force to which it was being subjected.  Further back on the boat, thousands of cheering passengers populated the upper deck.  

And further astern was the most astounding sight of all.  The two tugs, whose original role was to haul the cruise-liner, were now, pathetically, being dragged behind.  The tug on the cruise ship's stern was the luckier of the two, connected by a cable at its bow.  This tug cut through the water at the same breakneck velocity as the cruise ship.  But as a much smaller boat, it was buffeted much more severely by the water it encountered.  Kim realized that the rounded, flat-bottomed boat could not possibly have been designed for these speeds, and indeed, the hapless vessel thrashed about wildly as it was yanked through the water.  Green faces of the normally sea-hardy crew evidenced the violence of the ride their craft was getting.

The other tug -- the one intended to tow the cruise ship from the front -- was faring even worse.  Attached to the tow line by its stern, the tug found itself flipped around and was now being dragged stern-first through the water.  The poor craft was entirely unsuited for this type of abuse, not only thrashing violently side-to-side, but also periodically leaping clear out of the water.  More than once, Vicky could see the unlucky craft swerve hard and slam into the side of the cruise ship it was supposed to be towing.

Most astonishing of all was the overall picture -- an enormous cruise ship and two large tugs being hauled through the water at breakneck speed by a girl who was no more than a speck compared to the vessels.  

Kim looked at Vicky floating next to her and saw the woman's eyes water up.  And why wouldn't they?  Vicky's best friend, whose body she had redesigned, was was exceeding everything any of the girls had thought was possible.  Kim, too, felt a deep up upwelling of pride.  And more selfishly, she was thrilled to recall that her body had all of the same capabilities.

"You go Tammy!" Vicky shouted from the air.  She yelled it at a volume exceeding anything the dockside crowd had been able to produce.  

The crowd went warily silent as it searched above for the sound of the massive noise.  As onlookers began to spot Vicky and Kim floating overhead, an unsettled murmur rumbled throughout the gathering.  There wasn't one supergirl, they realized, but at least three.  The power they had heard about on the news had not only been pulling that cruise ship, but had been floating above them the entire time.

Kim basked in the combination of affection, awe and concern produced by the teeming mass below.  It wasn't until the last minute that she realized something was wrong.

 

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Louisa sighed as she flipped off the TV, the image of the cruise ship disappearing into a black screen.  The other girls were having all the fun, clearly.  She would have liked to go with them-- to see Tammy pull that massive boat into the harbor.  But her recent exertions -- particularly the destruction of the prison and the transcontinental flight with the truck -- has left her feeling a little bit depleted.

She and the other girls were beginning to understand a bit better how her flight powers worked.  Her breasts seemed capable of storing vast amounts of energy, as she had discovered when she had absorbed so much at the nuclear plant in Florida.  But the energy was not infinite; it could be depleted, as her recent exertions in Pakistan had done.  Someday, she would need to replenish.   

There was another thing, too.  Even after absorbing all the energy she did in Florida, she had never felt quite "full".  She wondered whether her capacity for power far exceeded anything she had ingested so far.

Apart from feeling a little bit spent, the other reason Louisa stayed behind was to look after the rugby guys.  In fact, she was really starting to enjoy having them around.  For one thing, it was thrilling to see the extraordinary emotional power she had over them.  She would walk into a room and the conversations would instantly stop.  She could walk through a group of them and a path would instantly clear -- like a female Moses in her own little Red Sea.

It was also thrilling to see how easy life around the estate had become for her.  She no longer had to think about keeping a room clean, scavenging food out of the fridge, dealing with the laundry.  It all happened instantly, thoughtlessly at the hands of a small horde of men.  They even took care of things she hadn't thought about -- the landscaping, the pool cleaning, paying bills.  Louisa's only task now was to enjoy herself, and that was a task to which she was adapting very quickly.

However, ever since the first day, when she and Tammy had threatened to flatten one of them under an enormous boulder, the guys had been uneasy -- extremely dutiful an contentious, but uneasy.  Some of the men seemed to be avoiding her.  Others mustered the courage to interact with her, but they had so much trepidation that they were not themselves-- and no fun to be around.  She wished there was a way to get them to relax while still making clear who was boss.

"Louisa.  Holy shit.  Louisa."

Whoever was speaking couldn't have intended for her to hear.  The voice was nothing but a distant whisper.   But to her exceptional ears, it may as well have been a shout through a bullhorn.

Curious, Louisa rose off the couch.  She was wearing nothing but skimpy, black silk panties and their matching nightgown, and the nightgown wasn't much.  The hem stopped just below the crotch, leaving the full extent of her glorious legs available to the eye.  It featured a silk sash that should have kept the waist closed, but she hadn't bothered to tie it, leaving the panels open to reveal the massive mounds of her cleavage, and the feminine muscularity of her midriff.  Before her transformation, she would have seen the display as exhibitionist.  But now, like Tammy, she had started to feel that it was a disservice to everyone -- including her -- if she covered up. Her body was a irreplaceable work of art, made to be appreciated.

On cat feet, Louisa slipped out the back door onto the mansion's massive rear patio.  The inky darkness would have been a formless void to normal human eyes.  But three for four stars poked through the overcast sky, and that was more than enough for Louisa, who saw the grounds with day-like clarity.

It was Chad out there, sitting in a chair by the fire-pit, facing away from her.  He was alone, in the dark, the vacuous glow of a cell phone screen illuminating his face.  Louisa's eyes zoomed in on the screen with inhuman, telescopic power.  The screen displayed pictures.... of her.  They were grainy, clandestine images -- shots that must have been surreptitiously snapped when she was out by the pool this afternoon.

He's spying on me, Louisa seethed.  He's probably jacking off to pictures of me -- here, in my own house, she noted with disgust.   Her feet silently left the ground, and she floated to within a few feet of him before her disapproving voice broke the silence.

"Nice photography."  

"Oh!"  Chad nearly jumped out of his seat.  "You scared me.  I didn't hear you coming."

"Your ears aren't good enough for that," she observed plainly.  She also observed that he had a boner.  "So, you've been spying on me?"

"I'm sorry."  Chad backed away from her like she was a bomb about to go off.

"Have you -- been spying on me?"

"I couldn't resist," he admitted, gazing at the feast of curves her nightgown presented.  His face was bashful.   "I've been thinking about you since the moment we first met."

"My eyes are up here," she reminded him pointedly.  Louisa could have made it easier for him by tying the sash of her silk gown, but she didn't bother.  She liked to watch him struggle.

Chad dropped his eyes to his shoes, trying to collect himself.  He shifted from one foot to the other uneasily.

"Look," he continued, meeting her in the eye.  "There something else I'm sorry about too."

"Go on," Louisa challenged.

Chad pulled a knife off the ground by his feet.  It was the one Darren had used to attack Tammy -- an attack that ultimately led to that man's defeat in a duel.  Chad thoughtfully turned it over in his hands.  "I feel really badly about how Darren attacked Tammy.  You saved him -- and all of us -- from years of misery in a foreign prison.  We should be thanking you.  Personally, I'm not thinking about when I can get out of here, or when I can resume my rugby career.  I want to give you something back for everything you gave me.  I'd do anything you asked-- without the knives and the boulders."

"Huh," Louisa responded, lost in thought.  She was thrown off guard by his humility.  She hadn't been prepared for that.

Lost for words, she stepped over to the fire-pit.  It was full of wood.

"There are no matches," Chad offered.  "I looked."

Louisa did not respond at first. Lost in thought, she rubbed the log with her thumb.  Slowly at first, the motion of her hand quickly increased to a nearly invisible blur.  A humming sound seemed to emanate from the log as her supernatural speed increased even further, turning the log into a six-inch-wide tuning fork.  In moments, the log burst into flame.  

"Anything I asked, huh?  That's what you'd do?"  The log's yellow tongues of flame were consuming her hand.  

"Sure."  

"Literally?"  She asked, watching the hot flame writhe against her fingers.  "You'd do anything?"

"Sure."

Louisa jammed the log into the center of the pile, and the other wood began to catch.  

She turned to face him, his face now illuminated by the orange glow.  Was he serious?  He had gone beyond apologizing; he was volunteering to put his life in her hands.  Anything she asked.  Was her power this immense, that men freely submitted their fates to her fickle mercy?  The knife Chad held in his hand glowed with the reflection of the dancing flames.

"Maybe I'll have you do a little penance for all those peeping tom photos," she suggested mischievously.

"OK."  He seemed nervous now, but he didn't waver.

She pointed at the knife.  "Stab yourself."  

"Pardon me?"

Louisa only gave a mock pout.  He wouldn't do it, she knew, but it was fun to call his bluff.  She pointed again to the knife, and then to his leg.

Chad's face migrated from confusion to horror.  She could easily imagine what he was thinking.  Louisa is deadly.  She has turned an entire Pakistani prison upside down, effortlessly.  If her request was for real, it would be his leg or his life, an easy but horrifying choice.  Grabbing the knife point-down, he held it with shaking hands.  He looked down at his thigh, and then at her.

She nodded, giggling.  "Come on, you promised!"

Then, his face migrated from fear to grim resolve.  His hand stopped shaking.  He plunged the knife in.

"Aaarrrrggggh!" The blade was in deep; only about an half-inch of metal was visible between his skin and the handle.  Chad grit his teeth, but stayed standing.  He beheld her with a proud and yet pleading look.

"Jeez!" Louisa exclaimed, kneeling down.  "I was just playing with you.  I didn't think you were actually going to DO it!"

He only groaned in reply.

Louisa examined the protruding knife.  Craning her neck upwards, she saw the grimace of pain on his face.  "Why did you do it?  Did you think I was going to put you under a rock if you denied me?"

He managed a pained smile at her.  "No, that's not it.  Don't you realize?  You're beyond beautiful.  You're like some kind of goddess on earth.  Do you think I have the emotional strength to look you in the eye and say 'no'?  Your gaze is overwhelming.  I'd rather swim against a tidal wave."

His face was sincere, she noted, as she gently ran a finger over the still-protruding hilt of the knife.  She really did have that much sway over him.  His words began to sink in.-- a goddess on earth.  Wow.  She could have this man do anything, anything she wanted.  No matter how much it imperiled him, he would do it because it made her happy.  Her happiness may matter more to him than his safety.  The realization sent a rush through her.

Gazing up at his eyes again, she felt something else -- gratitude.  He had imperiled himself, entirely for her.

Extracting the dagger, she tossed it aside.  A fountain of red emerged from his thigh, quickly soaking part of his shorts and running down his leg.  He had pierced a major artery, apparently.  His breathing went shallow when he saw the amount of blood he was losing.

Chad moved his hand over the wound, trying to slow the bleeding.  The flow was too great, and soon his whole hand shone with red wetness.

His voice shook with trepidation and he looked at his soaked hand.  "I'm afraid it's really bad.  Idiot me -- I think I hit a big artery there.  I've heard about guys bleeding to death in only minutes.  I won't even make it to the hospital in time."

She smiled, removing his hand from the wound.  "Let me kiss and make it better."

"Are you joking?"  He asked uncertainly.  

"Wounds are healed by platelets.   Both of our bodies make them."  She bit down -- hard -- on her lip and a small trickle of her blood emerged.  Steel-jacketed bullets couldn't pierce Louisa's delicate skin, but Louisa's teeth could.

"Platelets can heal only little nicks and scrapes," he objected, a dark fear in his voice.  "This an artery.  I'm doomed."

She brought her flawless, pouty lips close to the fountain of red liquid on his leg, and looked up at him with playful eyes.  "You silly.  You always underestimate me.  My girl platelets are tens of thousands of times more powerful than your weak man's platelets.  Everything about me is vastly superior."

She kissed the wound deeply, feeling the liquid warmth of his feeble, unenhanced body coursing over her tongue.  She felt the taste of her own genetically enhanced blood too, as it commingled with his wound.  Her kiss continued.  

In moments, the wound cauterized and scabbed over.  The bleeding had stopped.  Above, she heard Chad gasp.

"Is there any pain left?"

"No," Chad admitted, confused.  

"Good." Louisa smiled in relief, standing to look him in the eye.  

"It actually feels..... uh.... good.  It tingles, in a pleasant way.  I can't believe you were able to do that with just your spit.  Are you supernatural in every single way?"

"Yup."  Her face darkened slightly.  "Now, back to the cell phone pictures.  Why were you spying on me?"

"Isn't it obvious?"  Chad said nervously.  "Because you're the hottest girl imaginable."

At hearing that, she felt a gratifying warmth inside.  "Then why did you do the peeping tom shit?  Why didn't you ask me to pose?"  She inched toward him, lightly grazing his chest with her nipples.  "I'm used to being admired."

"Ask you to pose?  I mean..... You tore a whole prison to pieces because it annoyed you.  I can't...."

She silenced him with her finger, which then traced a playful line down the middle of his chest.  She immediately saw his member regain its firmness. "This little body of mine has killed dozens of men..."

She felt Chad shudder.

"... but that doesn't mean I'm a complete bitch.  I can be nice, as well, to the men that make me happy."

His shoulders slumped in relief.  "When you caught me with the pictures, I thought I was fucked."

"No," she smiled, pulling his hands under her gown.  "That comes next."